


The Little Things

by sylvermyth



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Knitting, M/M, Natsume Week 2016, hand-made gifts, i just want them to be happy ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: Natsume Yuujinchou drabbles.  We find happiness in the little things.





	1. Stitch by Stitch

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a late entry for Natsume Week, day 1: family/friends

September.  The days are still warm, but the wind makes Takashi’s wind chime tinkle just a bit more than usual, carrying with it a hint of fall.  The nights are already growing cooler.  
  
Touko pauses at the little yarn shop on the way home from the market.  She hasn’t knit in what feels like ages, though she knows it’s probably only been a few months.  More importantly, she hasn’t knit anything for Takashi, and that urges her into the store.  She knows how the cold sneaks up in the fall, warm one day, and biting cold the next, and Takashi…perhaps doesn’t take care of himself as well as he should.  She frowns at the thought, of the fevers and the exhaustion, and he probably doesn’t think she notices, but she does.  
  
The least she can do is make sure he has something to stave off the chill of fall.  
  
Touko’s fingers draw across the different yarns, already considering how warm each would be, how comfortable against the skin.  The color that would best suit Takashi, and a simple pattern—nothing to draw much attention.  Although Takashi has friends, she doesn’t think he wants to stand out, and of course, that’s fine.  
  
It’s a dusty brown she chooses, one that will complement his eyes, the yarn a merino wool that will be both soft and warm.  She smiles as she makes the purchase, already picturing Takashi’s smile over the fabric she will craft.  
  
After dinner, she sits across from Shigeru, needles clicking rhythmically, the yarn smooth and pliant in her hands, taking shape with each stitch.  
  
“Ah, already knitting for the season?”  
  
Touko looks up at Shigeru and nods.  “I thought I would make a scarf for Takashi.”  
  
“It will be cool again soon,” Shigeru agrees.  He turns his attention back to his book, and a companionable silence falls between them, the sound of the needles a comforting one.  
  
With each stitch, Touko thinks about Takashi.  She hopes for his happiness and well-being.  She hopes that when he smiles, it will reach his eyes.  It doesn’t, always, but more and more, she thinks it does.  She imagines the tears he shed when Takashi told them he wanted to come live with her and Shigeru, and she wants to protect him from ever crying again.  Of course, she can’t, but she will do her best.  
  
The scarf knits up in a week, every free moment dedicated to finishing it, racing the impending cool weather.  It’s nothing eye-catching, though she has worked cables on it, like vines crossing and twisting in the fabric, just a little embellishment.  
  
It’s just in time, because the next morning is crisp, cool enough to need that extra bit of warmth.  
  
“Takashi,” she says, once he’s finished breakfast, “Wait just a moment.”  She presents him with the scarf.  “I made you a scarf.  It’s chilly this morning, isn’t it?”  
  
She sees it, the surprise in his eyes, maybe even a flash of hesitation at accepting the gift.  She’s realized that he’s not used to receiving gifts, but it still saddens her each time she sees it.  He’s becoming more used to it, though, and he smiles, a genuine smile, full of gratitude.  “Thank you, Touko-san.”  
  
There’s a kind of reverence when he accepts the scarf from her, and she knows he’ll treasure it.  He’s already winding it around his neck and, “It suits you,” she murmurs, because it does.  “Now, don’t be late for school.”  
  
Takashi flashes her another smile.  “Yes, of course.  I’m leaving now!”  
  
Touko and Shigeru call out a good-bye in unison.  Touko feels a little more at peace, remembering Takashi’s expression.  Like the scarf, stitch by stitch, she and Shigeru will help Takashi, little by little, and maybe one day, all of his smiles will be so genuine.


	2. transient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the very least, Tanuma was glad that Natsume had shared his secret with him at all. It was something Natsume worked very hard at, to appear and act normal. Like he didn’t see whatever had just caught his attention.
> 
> But Tanuma noticed. The little shift in Natsume’s eyes, focusing on something near, rather than off in the distance, the way the heat radiating from Natsume receded as he drew away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt from caseyvalhalla: TanuNatsu, "fog"

“Tanuma-”  
  
Tanuma glanced at Natsume, walking at his side.  “Hm?”  
  
Natsume’s eyes darted at Tanuma, and then away, tugging absently at his scarf.  As if he was still deciding whether or not to say what he was thinking.  Tanuma was used to it, by now, and didn’t prompt him further.  If Natsume had something to say, he would say it when he was ready, and no sooner.  Pushing him would be counter-productive.  
  
So they walked in companionable silence, the sky darkening, and the haze of a fog descending around them, bringing with it a damp chill.  
  
Natsume’s eyes were distant as they walked, as if he were somewhere else.  Perhaps seeing things that Tanuma was blind to.  It was another thing Tanuma was used to—and really, Tanuma couldn’t blame him.  If he were able to see the things that Natsume did…well.  It seemed more a burden to Natsume than anything, but Tanuma couldn’t help but be a little jealous. But more than jealousy, Tanuma wished he could see, too, if only to share in Natsume’s burden.  
  
At the very least, Tanuma was glad that Natsume had shared his secret with him at all.  It was something Natsume worked very hard at, to appear and act normal.  Like he didn’t see whatever had just caught his attention.  
  
But Tanuma noticed.  The little shift in Natsume’s eyes, focusing on something near, rather than off in the distance, the way the heat radiating from Natsume receded as he drew away.  If Tanuma squinted and tilted his head a little, he thought that maybe he could make out a shape, a slight distortion in the fog.  A distant buzzing in his ears, to confirm it, setting his teeth on edge and threatening a headache.  
  
“Something’s there.”  It was a statement, rather than a question, but Natsume nodded an affirmative.  “Should I…”  Tanuma trailed off.  Should he what?  He couldn’t do anything to help.  Maybe run away, to get out of Natsume’s way.  
  
Natsume shook his head.  “No.”  He smiled.  “It’s just Chobihige-san.”  
  
“Ah,” Tanuma bowed in the direction of the distortion in the fog.  “Hello, Chibohige-san.”  
  
Natsume cocked his head, listening to the ayakashi, curiosity across his features.  “Really?”    He turned his attention back to Tanuma.  “Chibohige-san says there’s some flowers nearby that only bloom in thick fog,” he pointed, “it’s a bit of a walk, but he’s headed there now, to see if they’ll bloom.”  
  
“Oh!  That sounds nice.”  
  
Natsume nodded, a serene smile settling on his lips, and changed direction to follow Chibohige-san.  Tanuma followed close behind, so as not to lose him in the growing haze.  
  
It was hard to track the passing time as they walked, or the distance they had traveled.  It was dark, but the fog lent an ethereal glow to the woods around them.  It seemed as if the real world was disappearing behind the fog as they pressed on, as if nothing else existed but him and Natsume, suspended in clouds.  
  
The moist, earthy smell of the air grew heavier, almost suffocating in the closeness of the forest.  
  
And then the world opened before them, sweeter air drifting up from below.  They’d come upon a small clearing that rolled down into the bottom of a hill.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Yeah,” Tanuma agreed.  
  
The air was still dense with white, so that the minuscule white flowers that carpeted the ground in front of them looked as soft and insubstantial as the fog itself.  They swayed gently in an unseen breeze, tiny petals already drifting into the air, dancing above the flowers for a brief moment, before disappearing into the night.  
  
It was quiet, a miniature world isolated from time and reality, suspended in fog.  
  
Natsume practically glowed at the edges, his eyes bright as he gazed down at the flowers.  It warmed Tanuma from within, and when Natsume’s knuckles brushed his, he curled his fingers tentatively around Natsume’s. Natsume’s hand was cold and a little clammy, but he gave Tanuma’s hand a light squeeze, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, taking in the sight before them.  
  
“There’s some small ayakashi,” Natsume murmured after a bit.  “The size of mice.  They’re dancing in the flowers and drinking sake.”  He leaned closer to Tanuma.  “And Chigohige-san and some others are over there, too.”  Natsume frowned, a small crease appearing on his brow.  “Tanuma, you must not feel well around so many ayakashi, we should go back—”  
  
Tanuma shook his head.  “It’s just a small headache.  Nothing to worry over.  We can stay a little longer.”  Tanuma smiled.  “Tell me more about the ayakashi, Natsume.”  
  
Natsume’s worried expression lingered on Tanuma, and Tanuma couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and place a light kiss on his forehead.  
  
“I promise, I’m fine.”  
  
Natsume’s lips twisted in doubt for a moment longer before he relented.  “Okay.”


End file.
